


Human Sicknesses

by flamingburningfandomtrash



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Nonbinary Frisk (Undertale), Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Reader is Frisk (Undertale), Sad with a Happy Ending, Sick Character, Soriel?? Kinda?? A little??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:47:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22793482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamingburningfandomtrash/pseuds/flamingburningfandomtrash
Summary: “hey, kiddo, i think it might be ok.”Their eyes open so slowly he worries that they’re running out of strength to do it.“What?”“you’re at 103. is that any good?”They look at him, clearly testing to see if he’s serious, before giggling. Loopy, maybe a little shocked. Of course that’s not good.“No, that’s, hehehe, that’s really really bad…”
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	Human Sicknesses

**Author's Note:**

> *huff* *huff* *huff*  
> *'M BACK*
> 
> DON'T MISGENDER MY BABY  
> PLATONIC SNUGGLES EXIST  
> I WROTE THIS AT TWO AM  
> ITS LONG
> 
> ONWARDS

‘OKAY! MORNING ROUTINE, START!’

Papyrus sits up out of bed, smacking his alarm clock on the first two beeps, as per usual. Rays or sun are shining through the blinds on the window. (The REAL sun, of course. It’s the best way to wake up, in his opinion.) He opens up his nightstand drawer and pulls out his- laminated- morning routine checklist. It helps him to stay on schedule- plus it feels more productive to check things off. And, he can do it in whiteboard marker and erase it the next day, so as not to waste paper!

“5:31 AM: (Of course, he gave himself a spare minute if it took him a second or two in order to wake up and pull out the list.) FIRST!! MAKE BED, TAKE SHOWER!!”

Pulling out the marker, he checks off the little box. Then he turns and makes the bed. Since he doesn’t flop around while he sleeps, like Sans, it doesn’t take much effort. Finishing this, he dashes down the stairs to take a shower in the little bathroom under the stairs. (The list comes with him.)

“5:45: NEXT ORDER OF BUSINESS!!” it reads, in all caps. “WAKE UP LAZY BROTHER!! NICELY!! WITH FOOD!!”

‘Time to reheat leftover spaghetti, then!!’ he thinks, brightly. The list is set on the counter while he reaches for his clothes. It feels weird to wear normal clothes after having worn his battle body for so long. Sometimes he forgets why he stopped wearing it, actually.

Oh. Right. Some humans were making rude comments on it… Sans had been kind of disappointed when he said he didn’t want to wear it after that. Of course, the Great, and Perfect, and Cool Brother Papyrus didn’t want Sans to be sad. So, he kept trying to wear it… But the mocking comments hadn’t exactly stopped after that. So he finally just found a site that sold clothes for tall humans and tried that instead. It was surprisingly comfier! That’s a bright side.

He nods confidently to himself, pulling them on and heading towards the kitchen.

It’s actually a bit of a lazy way to make breakfast, not that he’d ever admit it. Fridge, container, plate, microwave. Done! Maybe it’s best to call it efficient, not lazy. Anyway. While the spaghetti is in the microwave, he runs up the stairs and throws open the door to Sans’ room.

“GOOD MORNING!! ARE YOU READY TO GREET YET ANOTHER WONDERFUL DAY ON THE SURFACE??”

“ngh,” Sans responds, pulling a pillow over his skull.

“Oh, come on, brother.”

“five more minutes, it’s my off day…” 

“Well, you do work yourself unreasonably hard- five more minutes!”

“thanks, i’m bone-tired…”

Paps groans and heads out of the room with a sigh. This is about how it goes most mornings. ‘Five more minutes’, a pun, and food is on the table by the time he comes out. Normally he wouldn’t go easy on his brother, but last night he was working until one in the morning. Again. The humans were not afraid to make everything twice as expensive for monsters, and only pay them half as much. So the two take turns working, and hang out together on weekends. 

Luckily, they both have at least one job at the supermarket down the street, where Frisk got a job. The kid has grown up now, quite a bit. Old enough to have their own apartment, at least. The sweet human had only gotten sweeter, both to humans and to monsters. They hadn’t gotten any less spunky, though. Weird clothes, hair, apartment, everything. It made them fun to hang out with. 

Papyrus looks up pleasantly when hears the customary good-morning groan from Sans, before he comes lumbering down the stairs. 

“Don’t you dare fall asleep on the couch, I need help getting my stuff together before I leave!”

“i know, i know. sorry, it was rough yesterday.” 

“I would suppose so.”

“frisk wasn’t even at work… so, uh, no-one was very nice.”

“Why wasn’t Frisk there? Did they call in sick?”

“nope. just didn’t show.”

“I’ll text them and see if I can find anything out today! Did you get paid yesterday?”

Sans smiles tiredly, nodding. Paps lights up excitedly.

“Yes!! They actually got it to you on time this week, that’s great! Now! What’s next?”

He turns towards the list on the counter.

“6:15: START HEADING OUT FOR WORK!!! (DO NOT FORGET GOODBYE HUGS!)”

“Hm. I have to leave already.”

He hates leaving in the mornings, especially since he sees his brother so little during the week. Of course, Sans is aware of this, but there’s not really anything he can do about it.

“i know, bro. i’ll see ya tonight, though, that’s somethin’. and tomorrow’s saturday, we’re goin’ to see a movie with the gang.”

“You know I hate it when you call our friends that,” he says, with a good-natured sigh.

“i think it’s cool.”

“I know, I know. Anyway- you’re going to be alright today? Get some sleep, but also do something? Maybe?”

“trust me, i have a full day of lazy planned out.”

“Ugh, I’m sure you do.”

“heheh.” Papyrus is stalling, Sans can see it. He doesn’t want to leave, but once he’s on his bus, he does fine. Just gotta get him out the door. “c’mon. one more day, you can do it. we gotta whole world of humans who haven’t seen my cool bro, and we gotta fix that, stat.”

Papyrus smiles sheepishly and grabs his backpack. 

“Of course, brother! I won’t let you down!”

“you never could, no matter how hard you try,” he points out, hugging him briefly.

“I know. I love you!!”

“you too, bro.”

And then, it’s all down to another day of work, and another day of sleep.

~~~~~  
That’s how it goes most mornings, and today is no exception. It’s what happens later that goes differently. But, for now, Papyrus catches the bus and heads down the street to see Frisk before their first shift starts. They’re usually in the break room when he shows- but, after Sans’ warning, he tries texting them first.

(“Hello, Frisk!! Are you going to be at work today??”)

No response. Not even one of those little “Read” checkmarks. He frowns and sets his sights on the store. If they aren’t there, he’ll see if Sans or Toriel can go by their apartment and check on them. Just to be safe.

Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be surprised if some more thugs, or vandals, or someone tried to attack them (again). Some people, despite time going by, never forgot that Frisk had brought monsters to the surface, and never forgave them for it. Not that they needed to apologize, by any means. But, still, it got them into trouble sometimes.

The bus stops. The driver (Nice lady. Her name is Karen.) wishes Papyrus a have a good day, and asks how Sans is.

“He’s okay, but he really overworked himself yesterday.”

“Worked himself down to the bone, eh?”

“OH, COME ON, NOT YOU, TOO!”

“Eheheh. He’s kinda infected me, I’m afraid,” she laughs.

He has to laugh a little, too, even though he hides it in his sweater. Karen notices, but has learned not to press it.

“Now geddoff my bus, I got three more stops to hit by eight,” she says, with a laugh. 

“Yes, ma’am!”

Papyrus wishes he could fast-forward from that moment straight into the break room where he expects Frisk to be, but there’s still plenty of less-than-kind humans to pass, and greet, and (typically) fail to befriend. Of course, there are the nice humans he prefers to focus on- Kevin, the guy who likes dancing while he greets people at the doors. Lisa, the one cashier that always sneaks little kids lollipops from the jar behind her register. Mike, the shelving guy that used to do ballet. He likes to leap up and set things on the highest shelves instead of getting a stepstool.

After saying hello to them, he tries asking if they’ve seen Frisk. They all shake their heads “no”.

“Come to think of it,” Kevin points out, “I don’t think they’ve come in all week. But they haven’t called in sick. Maybe they’re usin’ vacation days and forgot to leave a note.”

“I see! Well, I will see if my brother can call them today, thank you!”

A quick check, just in case… They aren’t even in the break room… oh, dear. 

(“Sans,”) Paps says, shooting his brother a text, (“Everyone at work says they haven’t seen Frisk all week- would you mind checking on them at their apartment? Just in case?”)

A slow reply, as per usual. The little response dots run for nearly two minutes before the answer comes in.

(“k.”)

Great Asgore, of course that’s the reply he’s going to get. No time to think on it too much, though. He has monsters to help today!!

~~~~~

Sans is slightly more nervous than he lets on, and rightfully so. Going to Frisk’s apartment uninvited is one thing, he wouldn’t want to overstep boundaries. Though, that might just be him being nervous- the two of them are great friends, always have been. Mostly, though, if some anti-monster “activists” got ahold of them, that would mean they could be hurt, possibly badly. And if he’s walking into some sort of ambush, he could get just as wounded. 

That might be a tad bit more than he wants to deal with today.

Of course, he assumes that isn’t the case, but he has a bad habit of thinking of the worst-case scenario first. As he shortcuts downtown, where they live, he does what Frisk suggested, at least when he’s nervous about something. They called it “Best, Worst, Most Likely.”

“best case scenario, kid’s fine, forgot to come to work, and i’m invited inside for movies and a nap,” he says to himself, showing his ID to the lady at the counter so he can head up the stairs to their place. (Humans are really strict on the monster ID thing. Weird.)

“worst case scenario, kid’s chopped up into little pieces, the guys who did it are still there, so i get killed, and the universe resets again.”

Up the stairs, past the bathrooms, a left…

“most likely, they have a cold and forgot to call in, i go home.”

With this in mind, he walks up to their door- ringing the doorbell yields no results. Ringing it twice in a row is also useless. Spamming it (*cough* like a five-year-old *cough*) is his normal way to go, but, something tells him this is a bad idea. So instead, he tries knocking-

The door swings open at the slight touch… it was unlocked, even open slightly- oh, no.

“frisk? kid?”

The place is a total wreck. Messy, even by his standards, which is saying something. Blankets are piled everywhere in the living room. A lot are on the couch. He has to step around a minefield of dirty tissues as he walks. There’s a gross smell, but he can’t identify where it’s coming from. The fridge is slightly open, too. But, despite all this lived-in-ness, Frisk doesn’t seem to be here.

“kid? hey, uh, ’s not funny. where are ya?”

Frisk doesn’t have an upstairs, just a few rooms branching off of the living room and kitchen. The first room- the bathroom- is empty, but the bottom cabinets are ransacked for toilet paper, some rolls trailing all the way back into the living room to be used as tissues. The rancid smell is- surprisingly enough- not coming from the toilet. Heck, it seems fainter in here.

The bedroom, where he half-expected to find them, is also empty. It doesn’t look touched at all, minus all the blankets being hauled off to the living room. He smiles inwardly at the small wall of polaroids of himself, Paps, Toriel, Undyne, and Alphys. His favorite is the one he had framed as a joke- it was supposed to be a selfie when they were taking it, but then Frisk had tripped. Banged up their nose really badly, afterwards, too, but the photo is hilarious. It catches them halfway to the ground, Sans’ panicked expression- perfect.

Anyway, back to being scared out of his shorts about where the hell Frisk is.

“c’mon, say something,” he insists, standing in the living room. All signs seem to be pointing back here. The blankets, the tissues, the smell. 

From behind him, there’s a low groan. Sans whips around just in time to see a pale hand slide out from under the mess of blankets on the couch. It grapples for a tissue, finds a used one, and vanishes again. Like a zombie from a horror movie.

“oh my god,” he sighs with relief, laughing a little. They’re just sick. 

“heya, kiddooo…” he says, as he pulls back the blankets- Frisk is white as paper, sweating, and blowing weakly into a tissue. They screw up their eyes when they look at him, as if looking at the weak glow in his sockets is staring directly at the sun. 

“Mmn- Sans?” they rasp.

“uh, yeah,” he says. Looking at them is like a straight shot to the soul. Their soul is sending off desperate cries of pain, he can see straight through it… but at the sight of him, he feels them calm slightly. Relief seems to wash over their soul like a wave. They smile, shutting their eyes and sighing. 

“Thank god, I thought nobody would ever come.”

“what do you mean? and, what the hell happened to you? are you ok?”

That’s probably a dumb question. They obviously aren’t. He reaches to try batting some hair out of their eyes, only to discover that it’s soaked with sweat, and their forehead is practically on fire. That can’t be good. Holding his hand there for a second, he mutters,

“i mean, you’re burning up.”

“You kidding? I’m freezing,” they whine, pulling the blankets back up to their neck and putting a hand on their head. Upon realizing how hot it is, though, their eyes widen. “Oh.”

“yeah. you sick?”

“Flu, virus or something. You probably shouldn’t be here.”

“i’m a skeleton, kid, how’m i supposed to get sick like this?”

“I dunno.”

He notices how, in the short span of time they were awake, they’re already falling back to sleep. Eyes closing, words getting slower. They can’t fall asleep, they can’t leave him alone while they’re like this…

“kid, i know how great sleep is, but we really need to try to, uh, fix some of this. why didn’t you call somebody sooner?”

“My phone charger broke, remember? I was going to call and ask to borrow one of yours, and then my phone died. I thought I’d be fine for a night, but I woke up a bit ago feeling like this, and I haven’t been able to leave the house…”

“oh… ok. should i call someone? tori? i don’t know a crap ton about human sick stuff.”

“Okay… I just need to sleep.”

Okay. At least he has an explanation and half of a plan. He can handle that.

“gotcha. i won’t leave the house, ok? i’ll be right here.”

“Thank you.”

He sighs as they drift off. There goes his off day. In the end, they’ll be okay, of course… hopefully. Hopefully this isn’t fatal, or something. Toriel would know. In his opinion, it has a lot of the symptoms of falling down. It was sudden, it made them very weak, made them pale- speaking of, he ought to check their soul a bit closer.

He carefully takes stock of their HP and LV, sorting through numbers, stats… well, Frisk obviously hasn’t killed anything. That information is both obvious and useless. HP-wise, they’re decreasing. Not in a normal way either. From the pattern, it looks as if they’re building up to a free fall. That’s definitely not good.

‘just call tori,’ he thinks, flipping open his phone and dialing the number. (He still has to use a flip phone because his fingers don’t work on the touchscreen, which is annoying.)

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Hello, my friend!”

(Thank god.) “hey, tori.”

“Oh- is something wrong? You sound worried.”

This lady can read him like an open book, heh. 

“yeah, uh- frisk is sick.”

“Oh, dear. How bad? And for how long?”

“it’s really bad… their apartment is a wreck, they’re burning up.”

“I see. For how long?”

“i think… a week-ish?”

“What?!” she exclaims. He has to hold the phone away from his skull. “And why did you not think to call me sooner?”

“i only just found out.”

“What do you mean?”

“they hadn’t been comin’ into work, but they weren’t callin’ in sick, or askin’ anybody for help- we didn’t know, but we got worried, so paps sent me over.” 

“Ah. I apologize… why did they not call?”

“their phone was dead and the charger was broken. they couldn’t leave the house, either.”

She thinks on this for a moment, then says,

“Sans, I know this may be a lot to ask of you on your own, but could you please take their temperature and do a few other things while I head over there?”

“uh- yeah.”

She gives him a brief, careful list of things that would help out. He listens, doing some of them by magic while she talks. Tissues put into a trashcan, a few more boxes put by the side of Frisk’s makeshift bed. Change out the old blankets, bring some pillows. Take their temperature. Check if they have any temperature reducers in the kitchen with the medicine. Bring a few bottles of water to them, too.

Once she hangs up, he gets up to grab a thermometer and check for the medicine first. Handling Frisk first and their surroundings next seems like the best possible option. He finds the thermometer on the floor outside the medicine cabinet, as if they’ve already used it. Bottles of indistinguishable pills are everywhere, but he doesn’t know which ones are important. They all look the same.

“uh…” he mutters, picking up the thermometer, “later. i’ll handle that later.”

Back to Frisk. Small problem: he doesn’t know where humans PUT thermometers. Sans and Papyrus don’t get fevers, and if they did, they might try sticking the thermometer in their eyesockets or something. The kid’s eyesockets are currently occupied by some eyes that he doesn’t feel like gouging out, at the moment. Best to just ask where it goes.

“kid?” He shakes their shoulder, which is unsurprisingly hot as well. “how does this thing work?”

Frisk blinks open long enough to take the thermometer and stick it in their mouth, only half awake. Oh, that would make sense.

“thanks, bucko. now, let’s see how you’re doin’…”

It doesn’t take but ten seconds to get a reading with this thing. He actually sighs with relief, reading it. Only 103. Normally, it says, they should be at 98.6, and this isn’t too far off, right? Maybe their fever is going down… though that wouldn’t explain the state their soul is in.

“hey, kiddo, i think it might be ok.”

Their eyes open so slowly he worries that they’re running out of strength to do it. 

“What?”

“you’re at 103. is that any good?”

They look at him, clearly testing to see if he’s serious, before giggling. Loopy, maybe a little shocked. Of course that’s not good.

“No, that’s, hehehe, that’s really really bad…”

Now he can’t tell if THEY’RE serious. 

“seriously? it’s only, like, five degrees different.”

“I know, humans are weird, heh.”

Well, they’re clearly not doing too well, so he assumes that they’re telling the truth. Geez, humans have more weaknesses than he thought.

“ok. sorry, bud. you can go back to sleep.”

They nod, sighing into the couch, and drifting off. Sans stands, scratching his skull and gingerly holding the thermometer in one hand. Whatever- ‘humans are weird’ can sum up whatever explanation Tori will give him. Now, onto all those blankets and pillows and the tissue thing.

~~~~~

Toriel is sitting in the car, heading downtown from school. She has a good substitute, so her class will be fine for a period or two. It should be fine.

She wonders how bad it is at Frisk’s apartment. Personally, she’s never heard Sans make a comment on anything being dirty or messy, being a mess-maker himself. He sounded… worried for them. Scared, even. After a long while of just listening to him talk through a half-foot thick door, phones are much clearer. In person, his voice is so much more understandable. She knows exactly what he’s feeling, after so long having to figure out how he felt from the little emotion she could strain from his voice. Though, maybe it wasn’t the door that made his emotions hard to understand…

But that’s a thought for another time.

She has her ‘human care journal’ in her lap as she drives. She made it primarily back when she had Chara- it mentioned human-friendly foods, different sicknesses, human tendencies, what makes them happy or sad. Coming to the surface, she learned that most of the things she had in the journal were specific to Chara- and all of the information and more could be found on the internet anyway.

But she kept it, in case she might use it, one day. Maybe it will be useful now. 

Walking up to the apartment complex, the little human at the reception counter demands to see her ID. She shows it to him, and he looks up at her, surprised.

“A-ah! The former queen of monsters, I s-see!”

“Yes. I am here to see my child.”

“Your daughter? She’s in room-”

“My child,” she corrects him, “And I know what room they’re in, thank you.”

He frowns, but she’s already headed up the stairs.

~~~~~

Somebody is knocking on the door- Sans would normally spend the time walking from the couch to the door thinking of a knock-knock joke, but there really isn’t time. 

“hey, tor.”

“Hello, Sans- how are they doing?” she asks, stepping inside.

“uh.”

Well, Sans found a plastic bowl under the blankets he changed out. It had the disgusting smelling stuff inside, whatever it was. So he dumped it down the sink. But then they wanted the bowl back, for whatever reason… and then they started coughing, and more came out of their mouth? It’s gross, and weird, and he has frankly never felt worse for the kid in his life. This cloudy, green, poison stuff is in their system, and he has no idea what it means.

“i don’t know what you call it, but it smells awful.”

“Oh- did they throw up?” she asks, smelling the air and wrinkling her nose some herself.

“i think?”

She spies them on the couch, propped up in pillows, covered in the fluffy blankets. They really do look awful. And their poor HP (Toriel can’t see as much as Sans can, but she does have a certain mom instinct) is dropping slightly, too. 

“Hello, my child,” she says, gently, crossing the room to sit beside them. They snore softly in response.

“they’re doin’ better after i got stuff cleaned up a little more. it was really bad,” Sans sighs, sitting at the edge of the couch beside them. 

She can see the worry plain in his eyelights. This is one of his closest friends- and they clearly aren’t doing great. He’s never even seen a sick human before, especially not this bad, of course he’d be concerned. All monsters are taught that humans can sustain terrible injuries, that they’re determined and strong… but what did anyone learn about their sicknesses? For all Sans knows, she muses, Frisk could be dying. 

“I would assume so, if they were like this for a whole week… but I would think it is probably just a rather bad flu. Did you take their temperature?”

“uh, yeah- 103? is that bad?”

Oh.  
Oh, dear.  
That is worse than she thought.

“i couldn’t find any temperature reducers, i couldn’t tell ‘em apart from anything else. are they gonna be ok without ‘em?”

Toriel stands-

“I think it’s best if we look. A five-degree difference can be very serious for humans, I am afraid.”

His eyesockets go dark- an endless expanse of black. She rubs his shoulder gently.

“I’m sure they will be alright. We just have to do what we can to help.”

“their HP isn’t doin’ too well, though… you think someone hurt ‘em? the door was half open when i got here, what if someone came in and-”

“While that IS worrying,” she admits, cutting over him, “I think we caught a lucky break there. Nothing is stolen, or broken, and they seem to only be sick. They will get better with some medicine and TLC. Besides, laughter is the best medicine, and you’re excellent at that.”

He sighs, cheekbones going slightly blue, and stands.

“thanks. c’mon, i’ll show ya where i found the stuff.” 

~~~~~

The moment Paps got off his shift, he texted Sans.

(“Brother, is the human alright? You did check, didn’t you?”)

This time the response is nearly immediate-

(“yep”)  
(“they’re really sick but its gettin better”)  
(“tori’s over here helping”)

Oh, poor human! Being sick is never fun (if what the people who call in sick from work say is true).

(“What do they have?”)

(“dunno yet. tor thinks it’s the flu.”)

(“Well, send them love from the great Papyrus!!”)

(“lol will do bro”)

(“:)”) 

(“:)”)

Papyrus can go visit once he’s done later tonight- it would be a relief to see some of his friends anyway. Best to let Undyne and Alphys know about this, too, though.

~~~~~  
“oh, is this it?” Sans asks, holding up a small red bottle.

Toriel takes it, then turns it over to look at the label. It reads “Mild Temperature Coolants”. Her face brightens-

“This is it! Thank goodness, that took a while. Let’s see how many are left… oh.”

She turns it upside down and pours out a cotton ball and one pill. 

“only one left, huh?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“well, we can at least give it to ‘em- that oughta help, i guess.”

“Of course- you did find some water bottles, did you not?”

“yep. they’re by the couch.”

“Wonderful. Thank you very much.”

“no prob.”

They both walk back into the living room, where Frisk is curled up in the corner of the couch- all of the blood has left their face, and they have the plastic bowl held to their chest with shaking hands.

“Oh, my child,” Toriel says, hurrying over to them and gently pulling their hair out of their eyes. “It will be alright. It will pass, just breathe.”

Sans has to look away when they throw up again, though he does feel an immense amount of pity. Being human must be rough. 

“There, there, see? It’s alright. Take this, you’ll feel better…” she hands them the pill and the water, which they take small sips of before downing the pill. “Sans, will you stay with them for a moment? I’m going to go check for any anti-nausea things.”

Frisk looks slightly guilty, like they feel as if they’re doing something wrong by subjecting their friend to this. Poor kid, damnit… Sans nods calmly and sits on the floor, leaning against the couch. Toriel heads back into the kitchen.

“heya.”

“I’m so sorry…”

He turns around to look at them, elbow sitting on the couch.

“heh, you say that like you had a choice in this.”

Another wave of nausea- they do their best to resist in order to keep the medicine in. Sans finally climbs up onto the couch beside them. He pulls an arm around their shoulders… their very hot, shaky shoulders… shit. What was that thing Toriel said, about laughter being the best medicine?

“y’know, buddo, you may think you’re CHILL, but i think most people would say you’re pretty HOT.”

They give a weak smile, sniggering at the bad jokes.

“if anything, i think you need to COOL off, you’re really BURNING yourself out here.”

Another giggle- is this really working?

“paps thinks my puns are bad, but i think these ones are pretty SICK.”

He sighs as some of the tension leaves the kid’s body, and they settle back into the couch cushions, into his arm. He has no idea why that worked, but he’s certainly happy about it. 

“yeah, get some rest, ya need it.”

“Sans, I’m going to be fine,” they inform him. “It’s just a bad strain of the flu or something.”

“see, i have no idea how that works. but i’ll take your word for it, k?” 

They nod and lean into his chest, falling asleep. He sighs. In comparison to their burning skin, his bones seem almost cold. He hopes it will help cool them down. 

“hey tori?” he asks, quietly, into the other room.

“I’ll just be a moment, I found the medicine… Yes?”

He looks over at her as she giggles- she probably thinks it looks pretty cute to see the kid asleep against him. He would probably agree, if it wasn’t him they were leaning on. Funny how that works.

“we got any ice packs?”

“I checked their fridge, but they do not even have an ice maker. We will have to ask someone to bring some over.”

“paps has work for the rest of the day… do we wanna try calling alph and undyne? they should be off work for friday.”

“I will do it- you look, ah, occupied,” she giggles. 

~~~~~  
“What do you mean, you’re already on your way?” Toriel asks, surprised.

“WE HEARD ABOUT THE PUNK FROM PAPYRUS, AND WE’RE FIVE MINUTES AWAY!! WHAT DO YOU NEED?!”

Toriel winces as she hears a loud screech over the phone, followed by a scream of profanities.

“Are you alright?”

“I’M FINE!”

Toriel hears Alphys say something in the background, and Undyne takes a huffy breath.

“I’m fine. Sorry, your majesty. Just worried about the kid. Whaddya need?”

“Ice packs and temperature reducer pills, if it isn’t too much trouble. You can find them at the drugstore.”

“Sure. See you in ten,” she sounds disgruntled, and hangs up before Toriel has a chance to say-

“Goodbye?”

~~~~~  
“Y-you shouldn’t h-h-have said all that…”

“I know,” Undyne sighs. “Probably not.”

“I-I get that y-you’re worried, t-though. I am, too.” 

“Are they going to DIE?!” she shouts, angry again, as she pulls into the parking lot at CVS.

“I- I w-w-wouldn’t think s-so…”

“WHERE’S THE JUSTICE IN SOMEONE, WHO DOES SO GOOD FOR EVERYBODY, JUST, KICKING THE BUCKET SO FAST?! THEY’RE JUST A KID!!”

“Undyne, c-calm down. They’re not going to d-die. I-it’s just the flu.”

Her face falls as she grips the steering wheel. Alphys feels relieved that she installed the grip adapters so it doesn’t rip to pieces in her hands.

“C-c’mon. L-let’s go get that, uh, stuff!”

She looks over, a tired smile coming to her face. 

“Yeah. You’re right. We got STUFF to get!”

“T-t-that’s the spirit!”

~~~~~

Toriel is getting more worried. Frisk seems to be overheating to the point where it’s a struggle for them to sleep. Even on the couch, with the temperature reducer, and the AC at fifty degrees- their skin feels like they just got a sunburn. Sans got over his embarrassment about napping with them quickly once he realized they might not be sleeping at all. It all sort of melted into worry again. 

“you need to move to your bed? we can move the sheets, but you don’t have much more room to roll over, kiddo.”

“N… no…”

They give a shudder, and Sans feels their HP drop again.

“woah, woah, hold on- tori!”

“Yes? What is wrong?” she says, coming in quickly.

“their hp dropped, what do we do?”

“How much?” she asks, kneeling by them and cradling their head in a paw. 

“uh-“ he checks- “they were at eleven outta twenty, and now they’re at five.”

“Do you think it is dropping exponentially?”

Oh yeah, Sans thinks. She’s a nerd, too.

“that’s what i’m thinkin’, but obviously souls aren’t that exact. either way- do you think we need to go to a hospital?”

At the word, Frisk sits up halfway-

“No, not… I don’t have… I can’t afford…”

Toriel eases them back down, frowning.

“If it drops below five, we will go. And, my child, do not worry about paying for it, it will be no trouble at all for me.”

“Y-you can’t pay for-“

“I can, and I will, if need be. You will not lose what money you have raised so carefully on this. I have far more than I deserve at my disposal.”

Finally, Frisk seems too tired to continue arguing, so they lay back down. Still frowning, though. 

“do we try to heal them or something?”

“Healing magic does not work on sicknesses,” Toriel says, sadly. “We have tried in times past.”

“okay… where are Alph and Undyne, anyway?”

As if on cue, the door flies open and bangs against the back wall with surprising amounts of force. 

“WE’RE HERE!”

~~~~~

Frisk is propped up in twenty (or maybe more) pillows, Sans is holding an ice pack to their forehead, and they’re pretty much packed full of meds. According to the thermometer, their temperature seems to be dropping slightly, but their skin is still burning hot to the touch. At least they aren’t complaining of chills anymore.

Undyne was forced to keep her voice low for their sake, and is glad to do so. Toriel is sitting with Alphys and talking about the risks of trying to handle a steadily dropping HP at home. Sans hasn’t moved, still holding them half-against him, half-on top of him, praying that they stay safe.

“hey, have any interesting fever dreams?” he asks, trying to diffuse the worry.

“I had one the other day that all the clover in my garden was trying to kill me… but that’s probably my mind reminding me I haven’t watered it…”

“heh.”

“You ever have any dreams that aren’t nightmares?” they ask, in a low voice. Sans squints, thinking.

“i used to have this one where i’d do stand-up like the comedians you showed me. those netflix specials? on huge stages, with tons of people watching. and i could tell the stupidest jokes, and everyone would be into it, right? yeah.”

“You could make it that big.”

“nah. too lazy.”

“If you wanted to, you could.”

“i’ll let you do somethin’ big like that for the both of us, eh?”

“Maybe someday… when I don’t feel like… ngh…”

Frisk gasps and bends over suddenly when their HP drops again. Sans clutches them tightly and checks them. Three. Three HP is definitely not healthy, at least, not for them.

“we have to go somewhere, tori, they can’t do this,” he says, holding them tightly while they shake. “hey, kid, take a breath, it’s gonna be fine. we’ll getcha somewhere safe.”

‘they can’t die, they can’t die, they CAN’T die, they CAN’T die, they CAN’T, THEY CAN’T, THEY CAN’T, THEY CAN’T, THEY CAN’T-‘ Sans cuts off his train of thought with a deep breath and tries to think of a joke he hasn’t used. Nothing comes to mind. Time to call Papyrus in.

“hey, paps,” he says, still holding Frisk while Toriel calls an ambulance. 

“HELLO BROTHER! IS THE HUMAN ALRIGHT??”

He turns the volume down significantly before answering- “not really, bro. we’re callin’ a hospital at the moment, their hp keeps going down and we don’t know what to do.”

“Oh.”

Sans flinches slightly at the confusion and sadness in that one word.

“Sans, are they going to die?”

“i… i don’t think so. i think i’d be pretty damn mad at the universe if they did.”

“But the universe doesn’t listen, most of the time.”

“yeah. i know.”

He rubs their back, willing his soul to slow down some. If he’s freaked out, the feeling will only spread to the kid, if not everyone else. And a stressed patient is not one that heals easily, he knows that. So he takes a deep breath and picks up the hastily dropped ice pack, pressing it gently to their forehead again.

“Alright- WE WILL HOPE FOR THE BEST. WHERE SHOULD I MEET YOU?”

“i actually don’t know where we’re goin’- i’ll tell ya when we get there, just pick up whatever paycheck you get, ok?”

“I AM LEAVING THE STATIONARY STORE NOW, SO I ALREADY HAVE IT! I WILL GO TO THE HOSPITAL NEAREST FRISK’S HOUSE AS A FIRST GUESS, AND THEN DRIVE TO ONE OF THE OTHERS IF I AM WRONG! HOW DOES THAT SOUND?”

“perfect. thanks, bro.”

“OF COURSE!” Sans can hear him hesitate, like he has more to say, so he waits. “Take good care of them until I arrive, alright? Toriel is very good with them, but you are the best brother I know, and if you don’t know them, nobody does.”

“aw, paps.”

“It’s the truth! So don’t slack off, alright?!”

“ok, ok. gotta go, bro.”

“GOODBYE!!”

“bye.”

Frisk reaches out their hand, holding a tuft of blanket in one fist- Sans takes it in his, letting them lay down onto his lap. He makes sure to cushion it with pillows though- not everyone is as immune to poky bones as he and Paps are. He’s going to be the best brother he can until Papyrus gets here and does him one better. 

“Was that Papyrus on the phone?” they ask, hoarsely.

“yup.”

“What’d he say?”

“well, he’s worried, just like everyone else at this point. he’s gonna come meet us at the hospital. how’s that sound?”

“Good… wait, are YOU worried?”

Well, that catches him off guard. He doesn’t want to stress them out, though… diffuse the tension in the question, then.

“i mean- who’ll watch three hour long documentaries with me if you kick the bucket, huh?”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Damn.

He pauses before answering, eyelights nearly nonexistent now- “look. i’m bad at the whole ‘spill your guts’ thing, because i don’t have any. (At least he got a snicker out of that one.) but- just, get better, ok? i kinda need you to.”

“Because you need something from me, or because you’re worried?” they ask, grinning weakly.

He sighs dramatically- you know what, if they want an answer, they’ll get one. “alright, alright, ya got me, kiddo. i’m just slightly concerned you’re gonna go and die on me, ok?”

They sigh now, smiling a little.

“I won’t. And I’m not worried- I have you guys taking care of me now.”

“heh. ‘m glad. you want to try to get some sleep while the ambulance comes? who do you want to ride with ya, by the way- tori, obviously, but anyone e-“

“You, definitely. You and Tori,” they answer, confidently. 

He’s surprised at the quick response, but he nods. 

“k. now at least try to sleep, ok? i’ll just, uh, be here.”

“Thank you.”

“don’t sweat it, kid.”

~~~~~

He’s not gonna lie, Sans was terrified when the ambulance arrived. He was expecting one or two people, a quiet, small vehicle, and he’d sit in the back with Toriel and the kid. This was not that.

At least five people in scrubs or fire-fighter-like gear came rushing into the apartment, going straight to the couch to inspect Frisk and ask the monsters some questions. They were the first professionals Sans had met who had no suspicion in their voices around monsters whatsoever. They seemed to know that, OBVIOUSLY this wasn’t anyone’s fault. And, yeah, Sans, Tori, Alphys, Undyne, they’re family. Why would they try to hurt their patient?

“Can she move?” one woman asks Sans.

“they’re not a she,” he corrects her, “and they told us they haven’t been able to move for a few days now, we’ve been bringin’ ‘em stuff.”

“Could you tell me what medicine you gave- them- recently?”

“three temperature reducers and one nausea pill.”

“All at once?”

“nah, spread out.”

“Oh, good. Okay, we’ll load them up then.”

“wait- me and tori want to come with? we’re kinda the kid’s- uh- family, i guess. i mean, i’m kinda their brother, or dunkle, or somethin’ like that…”

“I see… alright.”

Sans lets out a sigh of relief he hadn’t known he was holding, and gives Frisk’s hand a reassuring squeeze. ‘i can stay with you,’ he thinks at them. ‘won’t let you outta my sight until you’re better, you’ll see.’

As if in response to his thought, their eyes open and they give him a trembling smile. They hate hospitals, doctors, needles, tests, swabs and check-ups- they make them anxious as hell. But at least Sans will be there; he tends to make everything a little bit less tense. And no matter what happens, they know they’ll be well taken care of in the end.

“Alright, my child, careful…” Toriel says, lifting them out of Sans’ lap and settling them on the gurney.

Sans reluctantly releases their hand, wincing as they grasp for his fingers before being forced to let go. Alphys and Undyne are grabbing their bags and getting ready to head towards the car-

“W-we’ll f-f-follow the ambulance,” Alphys states. “A-and we’ll k-keep Papyrus updated until we can find you g-guys.”

“Yeah. See you in a minute, punk,” Undyne says, nodding at Frisk with a steely respect. 

~~~~~  
If Sans thought the people were daunting, he had no context: the ambulance itself is overwhelming. It’s bright, bright red, with red and blue flashing lights on the top, and a loud siren screaming louder than his thoughts. Inside is just as chaotic- he watches from a hard metal bench in the limited space as they hook Frisk up to several machines with wires and needles. It takes everything he has not to pull them out when they whimper. Stupid needles. Stupid stabbing. Why do humans always need tests involving blood?

Toriel observes Sans’ anxiety, unable to do anything about it but hold his hand in one of her paws. She has seen sicker humans in her lifetime- Chara, for one. Some of the children at school get quite sick in the nurse’s office and must be sent home. Volunteering at a hospital once or twice revealed just how sick humans can be. Sans, though- Sans knows nothing of this. He has no experience. This is the worst possible thing he must have ever seen them go through.

She, of course, is wrong. There are timelines where Sans himself caused Frisk pain a thousand times worse than this. But that isn’t this story.

“It is alright, my friend,” she says, patting the back of his small hand with one of her large thumbs. “Doctors are very capable when it comes to these things. Frisk will be alright soon.”

He doesn’t answer, but instead reaches across the gap between him and the stretcher and pushes some of Frisk’s hair out of their eyes. They squirm slightly toward the comforting touch- this stretcher is hard as stone, and there are no pillows or soft blankets like back home. They feel so uncomfortable they want to cry: but they don’t, for fear of worrying anyone. Any sort of reminder that they’re still in good hands is enough to keep them sane. 

“So… are the two of you in a relationship?” one of the nurses asks Sans, hoping to distract him from the fairly obvious stress. 

He flushes heavy blue and shakes his head “no”.

“they’re my sib,” he says, automatically. At least, that’s what it feels right to say. 

“Oh! Well, aren’t you the best big brother ever,” she says, sheepishly.

“second best, actually,” he shrugs. “at the moment i’m just fillin’ in until paps can get here.”

“Is he your other sibling?”

“yup.”

“Well, I’m sure they’re glad to know they’re in good hands,” she says, patting the side of the stretcher. Frisk squirms again, whining slightly. “I’m sorry hon, this thing isn’t too comfy- we’ll getcha to a bed soon, don’t you worry.”

Luckily, Toriel notices with relief, the distraction seemed to work. Sans is holding tightly onto Frisk’s hand, occasionally reaching up and touching their face when they wiggle or moan. He seems slightly calmer after saying that Frisk was his sibling. He can properly care for them now.

“Aaaugh…!” they cry: they want to convulse, but their body is so weak at this point they can’t even do that. Sans doesn’t even have to check to tell that their HP dropped again. He only checks to know how much.

“o-one,” he murmurs, eyelights totally extinguished. Toriel’s soul lurches.

“Their vitals jumped,” someone says, clicking on a monitor with obvious anxiety. The other two nurses talk loudly and pull out a handful of small boxes.

Before anyone has half a second to object, a shot goes into Frisk’s left shoulder and their entire body relaxes. They go completely still, only a slight rise and fall of their baggy t-shirt as proof that they’re still alive. 

“What was that?” Toriel asks, staring at their limp body fearfully.

“We had to put them in a temporary coma until we can get them the proper medical equipment. It isn’t an optimal solution, but their vital signs are getting too unpredictable- we don’t want them going into cardiac arrest without the equipment available.”

Sans isn’t registering anything at this point. 

It’s all frozen.

~~~~~  
Frisk’s friends- their FAMILY- are spread out throughout the hospital and throughout the city while they wait in the hospital room, recovering. 

Undyne is currently at the house choosing the fluffiest blankets to bring to their hotel room, along with their lavender-scented pillow.

Alphys is doing research on human sicknesses to write an article for her monster-human blog, talking to nurses and reading up on things online. 

Toriel is telling Asgore about the predicament over the phone in Alphys’ car, despite how much she dislikes talking to him. He deserves to know.

Asgore is listening and packing up a bouquet of get-well flowers to bring Frisk, being sure to pick out all of their favorites.

Papyrus is cleaning Frisk’s small hospital room and rooting around for anything he can entertain them with- when they aren’t in their coma periods, they’re terribly bored.

Sans is asleep by their side, despite not actually being allowed to sleep in the bed with them. They need him so badly- so far, he’s been one of the few things that’s given them any relief over the past few days. When they can’t sleep for aching and temperature swings, all he has to do is crawl up beside them on the hard mattress and curl around them: and they sleep like a baby. When their HP tries to drop, or comes close (luckily there are human monitors for it, which give a beeping warning right before it happens) Sans will take their hand or ask Papyrus to pick them up, and they’ll relax near immediately. 

The doctors and nurses can’t explain it: all the symptoms of the flu, but no medicine can fix it. The only ones with the capability to help are these strange skeleton monsters. Other than that, the best anyone can do is give Frisk a shot or a gas and put them in a medically-induced coma, keeping them (at the very least) stable until a new medicine or drug can be tested. 

Everyone hates this solution. Sans, Papyrus, Toriel, Alphys, Undyne, Asgore, the nurses, the doctors: anybody who has come to know them in the slightest hates seeing the kid in this restless sleep. And besides, not being able to eat or get many liquids isn’t helping them much anyway. 

According to Sans’ earlier guesstimation, it’s been two weeks since they fell ill. Luckily, at least for tonight, they’ve been cleared to sleep naturally. Sans wrapped around them to give them peace, a few bottles of water chugged back, swaddled in the blankets Undyne brought from their house, Papyrus’ gloves on their cold hands. This is the best they’ve been allowed to sleep for days.

Sans starts in the middle of the night when he hears his name being whispered softly. For someone who loves sleep as much as he does, he’s a pretty light sleeper.

“Sans?”

“yeah, kiddo? somethin’ wrong?”

“Am I going to die…?”

He shakes his head, pulling them tighter to him.

“nope. won’t letcha. you are not allowed.”

“If I do-“

“you won’t.”

“Can you forgive me if I reset?”

His soul drops a little. 

“yeah, kiddo. i think so. just, try not to kill anybody, ok? get us all out and safe again.”

Just as fast as he’d said it, he stops.

“not that you would, though. you ain’t dying.”

“… Did you say on the ambulance that I was your family?”

Sans pauses before nodding.

“Thank you,” they whisper, laughing weakly. “Means a lot. ‘Least I’m not going to die alone, right?”

“right. because you won’t die, and you won’t be alone.”

“Right.”

He feels their breathing even out again- had it been lopsided before? He can’t remember. 

“I love you, bro.”

Huh.

That feels odd- hearing that. He’d always called Papyrus ‘bro’, but being on the other end of it feels… different. Not bad different, nice different. Actually, really good different. He really doesn’t want to let it go.

“love you too, sib. get some sleep.”

They start snoozing near immediately- he sighs and feels the strong pull of their soul on his again. Just like it always is when they need him. He feeds them some of his magic- not too much to overwhelm or stimulate them, just enough to guarantee them a good rest. It’s draining as hell… but he’ll keep doing it forever if that’s what it takes to keep them alive.

~~~~~

It took five weeks more of that murderous daily routine- waking up, being bored out of their brain, feeding weakly off of Sans’ magic, then sleeping. Soon, though, with the magic intake needing to be smaller and smaller as their HoPe came back to them, Sans needed to do less and less. Soon, Frisk could stand, walk, exercise, and hold entire conversations without needing to sleep anymore in between. 

With Sans and Papyrus both on board as Frisk’s adopted brothers, they seemed to all grow together. Any setbacks or relapses of sickness were taken in stride. The kid could confide in either of them, could laugh or cry with either of them. Sometimes a lot of both. Sans noticed that they would do much better physically after they told him about their feelings, so he started to be more open to conversation. A sort of code was invented.

“wanna chat?” became the new “Need to vent and spill all of your problems or jokes until you’re crying from happiness or laughter? Because I’m here, and I want to hear it.”

“Can we chat?” became the new “I need to tell you something that’s probably insignificant but it means the world to me right now and I need you to hear it.”

Apparently, Sans discovered- they had a lot to say. What felt like years and years of bottled up problems. It started with the Underground, the resets, what happened there- but there was so much more than that. The loneliness, the flashbacks, the guilt. The thugs, the speciesists, the all-around dickwads who verbally and physically assaulted them both as a kid and recently. How the only comfort was in their friends, in their family, in being around others…

How much they loved them. How much they loved HIM. How the pain would have broken them long before now if not for them.

Sans or Papyrus- or both- would sit back and listen, and hold their hands, or hug them tightly, or let them curl up against them. It breaks their souls to hear how much they’ve suffered, beyond just plain being sick. Sans is beyond furious at the people who have hurt them, who they never mentioned before. Not even the ones who did anything significant- but the ones who made their everyday life an annoying hell. Papyrus is at least relieved they know they can come to him and Sans for refuge. For safety, venting, a warm blanket, a hot mug of tea, and a hug. 

All the “chats” end the same way.

“thanks for tellin’ me.”  
“Thank you for confiding this with me, sibling!”  
“Thanks for listening.”

“i love ya.”  
“I love you very much!”  
“I love you, too.”

~~~~~  
Frisk was finally dispatched from the hospital. They get to go home- and not their home where they live alone, of course not. Not after becoming so close and dependent on their newfound family.

Frisk is moving in with the skeleton brothers.

“can’t be-leaf you’re movin’ in with us, kid,” Sans says, tossing them a botany book for them to drop in the moving box. They do, snickering, and toss a paintbox his way-

“Color me surprised.”

“BOTH OF YOU ARE MAKING PUNS, I CAN TELL FROM IN HERE, AND YOU MUST STOP!!!”

They snicker as Papyrus’ voice rings from down the hallway. They finally tape up the last few boxes, stack them carefully in a pile, and smile.

“Who knows? Maybe nearly dying was the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“i highly doubt that, but i’m real glad you wanna spend more time with us, kiddo.”

“I can’t wait for this, honestly. I think I’m going to love it.”

Sans smiles- one of the first honest smiles since they were dispatched from the hospital- and slugs them in the shoulder.

“don’t get mushy, kid, or i’m kickin’ you out.”

“Alright, alright, sheesh!” you laugh. 

After all the boxes are in the U-Haul, they lean against the car.

“Ready to hit the road?”

“yep.”  
“I AM, INDEED!”

Suddenly, they cough, bending over halfway and crumbling to the sidewalk. Paps is the first at their side, Sans close behind, asking hurriedly for then to tell them what’s wrong.

They straighten up, snickering, and stretch.

“Kidding!”

After a moment of silence, both brothers groan loudly and half-shove Frisk in the car.

This is looking to be pretty fun.

**Author's Note:**

> I put my cat in a flannel bandana collar today...  
> she appears to like it  
> My cat likes flannel bois we all know what that means
> 
> Sorry for endangering the reader so much lately heh  
> I just love the excuse for "oh nu" cuddles, you know??


End file.
